A Lump of Coal
by Rosalindfan
Summary: A continuation of 'The Christmas Collection'. Foyle has a less than peaceful New Year's Eve.


**A Lump of Coal**

_**Friday 31**__**st**__** December 1943**_

It was exactly twenty minutes past seven in the evening when the scream rang out, clearly audible through the blackout blind and thick curtains of Foyle's living room. He turned down the wireless and sat, listening, but there was no repetition of the sound and he put it down to some early New Year celebrant. Turning the volume knob on the wireless he sat back comfortably to listen to what had recently become his favourite programme - not that he would ever tell anyone of it.

He'd found it quite by accident in late October when the programme he'd been listening to, a performance by the Band of H.M. Royal Marines, had finished whilst he was making himself a sandwich. So it was that instead of turning the wireless off, he'd caught the beginning of the following broadcast, a comedy show entitled 'I Want to be an Actor!' The premise, he learned, was that members of the audience would be auditioned and cast, on air, and would then perform a play.

The concept had intrigued him. He'd developed, over the years, a sense of when someone was spinning him a yarn, telling a story to cover the truth. He would go as far as to say that he could play a part well enough to lull a suspect into a false sense of security before allowing them to incriminate themselves. As he expected, the audition section contained several unsuitable candidates who could either not read or not speak the words they were given, their mispronunciations eliciting laughter from the audience. Once suitable 'actors' were identified he was amused to hear the names of the characters they were assigned – the dauntless Jack Hideho, the lovely Gloriana and the dastardly Von Gripandrop. He knew exactly what to expect as the first part, 'The Wheels Revolve' began and he was not disappointed. It had made him laugh. Ridiculous and melodramatic as it was he had laughed out loud. And when it had finished and the announcement made that the next instalment of 'The Ray of Destiny' would be broadcast in a fortnight's time he had circled the date on the small calendar hanging in the kitchen.

So here he was, on New Year's Eve, tuned in to Episode Five – 'Foiled Again'. The very title of it was enough to raise his lips in a smile. He was fairly sure, this being the penultimate episode, that he knew what the obstacle would be and how it would be overcome by the dauntless Jack and he felt a frisson of anticipation as the music heralding the performance began. Had he predicted it correctly? He was not to find out as another scream and the sound of running feet sounded right outside his window. He risked a look outside, the dim light inside not spilling too much through the curtains. The street was pitch black. With a sigh he went to the front door and opened it onto the cold night. Faint rapid footsteps came from down the hill but there was no-one to be seen. He was just about to close the door when a voice called from a neighbouring property.

"I'll get you, you little thieves!"

Foyle could just make out a figure hanging out of the bedroom window.

"Mr Jessup. You all right?" He went out into the street and looked up at his elderly neighbour.

"Aye, son. It's them Clarkson lads in the backyard again."

"Who was screaming? Haven't hurt any of them, have you?"

The Clarkson lads, all four of them, were well known in Old Town and he'd had words with them on numerous occasions. Their dad was in North Africa somewhere and their Mum worn out with trying to manage a high-spirited and always hungry family. But Foyle had a soft spot for them; they could be a nuisance but they were good lads at heart.

"No! That was the pig!"

Jessup's back-yard held a pen with the local Pig Club animal in it, a fact that Foyle was only too aware of when the wind was from the east.

"What, they've stolen the pig?" He tried to imagine the lads carrying the large aggressive sow down the street.

"Don't be daft, son! They've pinched a sack of coal. But I think the pig took a chunk out of one of them."

The window slammed shut and Foyle wondered how Sergeant Brooke would react when Mrs Clarkson came complaining of wild animals the following day. Turning to go back inside he stumbled on something in the roadway and bent down to discover a large lump of coal at the bottom of his steps. He picked it up and put it on the hallway table; he'd return it to Mr Jessup tomorrow.

'The Ray of Destiny' had finished so he turned off the wireless and put a record on the gramophone while he set up his fly tying magnifier. The calming activity occupied him for the next few hours and it was with some surprise that he heard shouts and singing in the street. The clock showed ten to midnight; he put on his overcoat and spotted the coal. Mr Jessup may also be out wishing the neighbours a Happy New Year and he would be able to return it. He put it in his pocket.

The residents of Old Town were out in force, some obviously having saved any hoarded alcohol until tonight. Foyle walked up the hill acknowledging New Year greetings with his own. At the top of the hill a crowd of young people had gathered and he skirted round them heading towards a particular house – that of Mrs Robinson whose Christmas pudding he'd enjoyed.

"Mr Foyle!"

He stopped and raised his torch to identify the speaker. It was Evelyn Brown, his Christmas prankster.

"Miss Brown! Thought you'd returned to Plymouth."

"I did but I got a beastly eye infection and couldn't focus properly. They sent me home in case the other girls caught it."

"Right. Well…" He adjusted his trilby. The memory of the rum-warmed kiss rose in his mind and he wondered whether she too was thinking of it.

"Five, four, three, two, one, Happy New Year!" The crowd chanted and shouts rang through the darkness.

Miss Brown closed the distance towards them and put her hands on his shoulders. "Happy New Year, Mr Foyle," she said softly next to his ear.

"And the same to you, Miss Brown," he murmured, surprised at his lack of embarrassment at her proximity. The lump of coal in his pocket dug into his thigh painfully as she leaned against him.

"Mr Foyle!" Miss Brown's scandalous tone was delivered with great amusement as she stepped back.

"Miss Brown?" He removed the coal from his pocket and shone the torch on it. "What on earth did you think it was?" he asked, face deadpan.

To his amusement she blushed and looked away.

Satisfied that he had the upper hand this time he swiftly placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Happy New Year, Miss Brown. Let's hope 1944 brings something better than last year."

He turned on his heel and walked away but he could feel her amusement as she called out behind him.

"It already has!"

…..


End file.
